


Good Fortune

by kedgeree



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Artlet, Ficlet, Fluff, Fortune Cookies, M/M, NSFW Art, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2014-02-21
Packaged: 2018-01-13 06:17:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1215757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kedgeree/pseuds/kedgeree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John never believed Sherlock could really predict the fortune cookies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Fortune

**Author's Note:**

  * For [missjay1988](https://archiveofourown.org/users/missjay1988/gifts).



> Winterlock gift exchange for clueingforjohnlocks. Rated mature only for the NSFW artlet part. I think I missed the tumblr collection, so I thought I'd drop it here. :-)

It had cost John twelve minutes of bickering and three kisses to convince Sherlock that Chinese takeaway was a more interesting choice for the evening’s meal than Mrs Hudson’s leftover risotto. He’d tidied the flat that morning…well, Mrs Hudson had mostly tidied the flat, but John had helped. A very soft snow was falling outside, but the fire was on and the room was warm and cosy.

He’d chatted with Sherlock over dinner about cases, about the news, about music, and about how John wanted to go away on holiday and Sherlock didn’t. Their thighs pressed together on the sofa as they leaned over the coffee table to snag bits of chicken or noodles off each other’s plates. Sherlock had rubbed his sock-clad foot over John’s and smiled. When he pressed a quick kiss to the corner of John’s mouth, John tasted sweet and sour sauce.

It had been, frankly, an exercise in agony.

When Sherlock finally picked up his fortune cookie, John watched his face intently. “So, you still think you can guess the fortunes?”

"Always." Sherlock nodded confidently. "Almost." He broke his cookie open and read the fortune. His lips parted and he breathed in slowly, squeezing his eyes closed.

John grinned his triumph and his terror. “I’m guessing you didn’t deduce that one.”

Sherlock ran the little strip of white paper between his fingers and smiled softly at John. “You haven’t opened yours yet.”

Frowning, puzzled, John cracked open his fortune cookie and read. His eyes flew to Sherlock’s. “You bastard.”

 


End file.
